Well, we did it.
We got a babysitter, and went OUT on a DATE. ALONE.
It was AWESOME.
Fred, Babysitter Extraordinaire, and his mom Kathy (just for the first experience!) came over at 6:30, and we gave them a whirlwind tour of all that is Vaughn, then we headed out for dinner at one of the nicest restaurants in town (note: there are really only 3 nice restaurants in town, but I think this is the nicest), DeVine.
Let me back up a second: I wore a new top from Costco (it’s quite nice, surprisingly), and — get this — my skinny jeans. Let me repeat: my SKINNY jeans! Yaaaay! Well, yaaaay for lycra and stretchiness in jeans, really. I put in an extra workout on Saturday afternoon, just to make sure they’d fit.
As Chris pulled — and Kathy pushed — me out the door, Vaughn looked devastated that we were leaving him behind! Ok, actually, he looked perfectly content, the little stinker. But I knew he’d realize it later, and THEN he’d be upset!*
We were seated right away, and I bonded with our waiter right away. I ordered a “seduction” martini, which was deliciously made of muddled grapes, vodka, and litchi liqueur, and Chris ordered a Campari. The waiter looked lost, and I said, it’s orange, and reeeeallly nasty. And he said, “Oh, THAT stuff! I didn’t think anybody drank it!” But they didn’t have any, so Chris got a caesar, instead. (aside: clam juice? seriously, why do people drink it?)
We started with appies: a cilantro-mushroom-chicken soup for me (not TOO mushroomy), and duck confit spring rolls for my date. So far, yum.
We then ordered a bottle of wine (note: I haven’t had more than 1/2 a glass of wine since last April**) and our mains: I chose a roasted chicken stuffed with sourdough, with a stack of scalloped potatoes and veggies, and Chris ordered the pork tenderloin, stuffed, and wrapped in sausage (pork wrapped in pork! what more could you want?), accompanied by veggies and spaetzle. Nom nom nom.
Dessert was also fabulous: I had the walnut cake with an apple compote, aged cheddar, black pepper ice cream and a drizzle of a cinnamon wine reduction, and Chris ordered a chocolate mousse bombe. DeVine was divine, all around. Adult conversation, reconnection, awesome.
We finished up the bottle of wine by about 9, at which time I said, “Great! We can make it home before Vaughn goes to bed!”
To which Chris said, “No, we’re not going home until he’s asleep.”
So, we strolled down the street for less than a block to Twist, a tapas and wine bar, and split another 1/2 litre of wine (oooooh, goodbye wagon! I don’t miss you at all!), while listening to live Spanish music. It was amazing. The whole night felt like… well, like us. Like our lives used to be, even when we were living in Ottawa. It was fun, elegant, full of good wine and good drinks, and I realized how much I missed our life.
We got home at 10:40, where Fred didn’t look stressed at all, Vaughn was peacefully sleeping, and Kathy nicely didn’t point out how drunk we were. And I raced up to watch my son sleep, and realized that this is good, too.
*apparently, everyone involved had a fabulous time, and V-man didn’t miss us at all, the ungrateful wretch.
**before any nursing nazis comment, YES, I pumped-and-dumped, although I figured that the boozy milk would have been excellent in a Sunday morning coffee.